Sum of Her Scars – Chapter 4-B

Happy Birthday Mallory!

Thank you for reading! Me and my coauthor Darinost are gradually combining forces and blogs, so the joint comment section for our stories is currently located on discord! Come on in and let us know what you thought, we don’t bite.

Diana, Goddess of Rape.

The words echoed in her head, but they didn’t make sense to her… the words of the blood-stained goddess seemed like nonsense to the dead paladin. A goddess couldn’t be worthless. A goddess couldn’t be fuckmeat, killed for the momentary pleasure of a cock once she was completely used up. Nothing made sense… “Why have you brought me here??” Diana kept asking. As she thought back to the humiliating way her valiant life had come to an end, the gut wrenching humiliation and misery, the feeling of being worthless and having condemned her friends to such a fate, brought fresh tears to her eyes once more. “Why did you do this to me? Why?!”

Syris smiled warmly at her, her expression… relieved. “So that you could take my place. So that you can suffer in my stead.”

A tremor went through Diana. Suffering? There was to be more suffering? Please… please no more… “I… I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t,” the goddess said as she slowly ran her long, sharp nailed hands down Diana’s body. “Because you’re arrogant. You’re self assured that you know how the world works. Long ago, there was no Goddess of Rape at all. Perhaps you know of this. There was only the Lord of Suffering, the god they called Kylis.”

As Syris splashed along the bloodied pool, molesting her vulnerable body as she spoke, Diana could see figures rising out of the blood like puppets that moved in accordance to the woman’s story. “He wrought devastation in all the places he went. Slaughter. Plague. Famine. Torture… and yes, rape. Millions of women gangraped, tortured, and sometimes executed in the most brutal ways as he spread his suffering across the world, the torment his only worship. Millions died… but of course, that was the end of their suffering.” She shook her head. “Upon death, their souls were released to whatever god they served. Their worst memories erased, they lived out their afterlives in peace.”

Her fingers brushed against Diana’s clit and she suddenly had a vivid, unbelievably detail memory of being hung upside down while someone sawed her in half from cunt to throat, a clearer memory than any she had of her childhood or training or friendships. “This did not sit well with Kylis… not at all. He wanted them to suffer… not just until they died, but forever. He attempted to keep their souls trapped in his realm for eternity, even upon death.” Syris chuckled darkly. “You know what happened next, do you not?”

Diana did. It was how Ajaxe had become the God of War. The other gods had suffered Kylis… but not forever. When he had begun to steal the souls of their faithful, all of the pantheon had risen up against him… destroyed him, cast him down into oblivion. “Yes…” Syris said. “I can see that you do. He was punished for this, his great power forever diminished by the gods and goddesses upon whose authority he infringed. They ripped away parts of his domain, spreading them amongst themselves, never to let misery congregate in one god ever again. They destroyed Kylis. The only problem was… they didn’t go far enough.”

Syris sighed deeply. “They left him with but one misery… one pain and suffering.” And with a grin, she thrust her fingers viciously inside Diana’s asshole, sharp nails stabbing as she forced her way inside. The blood on her hand was sufficient lube, but it was worse than useless because with it came the memories, the sensation of having her asshole impaled on a spike for hours, slowly being tugged down by gravity as her feet frantically tried to stop her fall, splinters filing her feet with a thousand stabbing pains as her bowels were violated deeper and deeper… “They left him with nothing but rape. The sexual suffering of the helpless and the weak. And he still wanted them to suffer, to suffer forever.” She shook her head again. “If he couldn’t steal the souls of everyone who had ever been raped to suffer for all eternity and prevent their memories from being erased… then there was only one solution to preserve them. There could be one person to remember all of it. One being to serve as a living annal of all the rapes done in Kylis’ name.”

She sawed her fingers in and out of Diana as her other hand pinched her nipples. “He began by stealing one or two souls… getting some women to watch. He never once harmed them, never even touched them. He just forced them to bear witness to atrocities over and over and over and over again… until they went mad. Too weak. Too useless. That wouldn’t satisfy him… a mortal was too weak to stand eternal. In the end, it was eternal glory that the God of Rape sought, and for that he sacrificed everything, including himself.”

She kissed Diana again, pressing her bloody mouth against her, filling her with memories of a silly whore being drowned in horse piss while she was raped from behind. “If a god steps onto the mortal realm, he will lose his divinity… he will live and die as a mortal, his mantle passed out. You know this… and so did Kylis. He didn’t care. He entered our world, strode into the Ancient Forest, and there he personally raped the great elven queen Eyladris and passed his godhood onto her… his divinity, and one final gift. Even as her guards rammed swords through his body, killing him, he had changed his power, set conditions on it.”

Syris smiled. “From that day on, Eyladris would bear witness to all the rapes that went on in the world and keep their memories burning. What others felt, she would feel. What others remembered, she would remember… and there would be only one way to escape that fate… to find another woman to take her place. Not just any woman would be viable, though… only someone who had suffered even more than Eyladris had.”

“So she became the new Goddess of Rape.” Syris fell quiet, pulling her fingers from Diana and instead stroking the red figure of the gorgeous Eyladris that rose from the blood. Her fingers slid softly over her nipple. “Before long she was empowering mortals in the same way as Kylis did… fueling their worst desires, giving them forbidden knowledge, whispering to them. She made them do things even Kylis would have never imagined. And then, by the end of it, Eyladris was released and another took her place.”

Syris came back towards Diana. “Do you understand now, paladin? Since then, there have been a dozen goddesses. I’m just the more recent one. All that I’ve done… every atrocity, every misery, every rape and torment and murder I have done for my own liberation. I suffered in life as you did. And then I woke up here. The time of Syris, however, is at an end. And yours… yours is only beginning.”

Diana listened to her words intently, trying to discern their veracity. This can’t be true, she thought. The Goddess of Rape?! I would never do that. Never! Having experienced it herself, she would never wish such a thing upon anyone. They may have tortured her in life and humiliated her… she might have accidentally subjected her order to a short, brutal life of sexual depravity, but she would never willingly inflict this on another.

Syris approached her once more and opened her mouth for a kiss. Instead, only a whisper left her mouth. “Farewell, Diana. I love you more than anyone ever has.” With those words, the pale woman suddenly fell backwards and dropped. Before she had sunk halfway down her body had dissolved into a crimson soup of blood that then splashed down into the pool, vanishing immediately and forever and leaving nothing but ripples behind.

No, no, no, Diana repeated. This is not possible…

An excruciating pain passed through her body and in that same instant she became flooded with thousands of memories that she lived through simultaneously. Though Diana herself had no memory of her own to account for the events themselves and when they happened, she had an instinctive feeling for which were closer to her and which were from thousands of years in the past. Every rape for millennia… all of it in her head. Strangest of all, among them was her own haunting memory of her rape and torture, and it seemed no different than the others. She was just one more among the millions that suffered in the same way.



Just one who had suffered one sliver more than the next most, the previous goddess.

I can’t… I can’t…

The memories washed over her like a flood, unstoppable, unending. A mortal mind would have cracked almost instantly beneath the weight of lifetime over lifetime over lifetime of torment, rape after rape after rape that left her screaming and gibbering as she thrashed in her chains. She had no idea how long she hung there, suffering, jerked like she was having a spasm, flinching from a thousand torments in a thousand different locations… hours, days, years, or decades. All she knew was that, eventually, the misery began to decrease.

There was, she realized, a small mercy in how these memories worked. They were the same every single time she thought of them. Though the initial impact of having someone flay her alive and toss her in a vat of salt before raping her was traumatic, it was something she could get used to. Something she had experienced before. Slowly, she got used to what had happened in each of a million million million memories, slowly detaching them from herself. These weren’t her. They were someone else’s. These memories weren’t hers. I can do this, she told herself. I can endure.

Time passed. New memories came, and she fought them down as she continued to work through the old. As she became more comfortable in her new self, Diana began to understand what she could do… the influence she could have. Once she did, the new goddess simply willed the chains that were holding her away and dropped down into the pool of blood. This realm was her realm, and as she made her way through it, occasionally jumping from the memory she was experiencing the most, she could see those that populated it.

The demons.

The denizens of this realm were the Agonizers, the monsters of blood and bone that she had fought before. These were the accumulated knowledge and skill of a thousand years of rapists, the talent of gifted torturers, the masters of anguish. Their gigantic cocks twitched, ready to take her as she went by, though there was a recognition in their dark eyes that she was their goddess… a mix of lust and terror. Diana looked at them and felt nothing but disgust. Cast them out. Destroy them. Send them away. All of them, out. Nobody would suffer as she had anymore… no one.

Just in that instant, a memory of a halfling being drowned at the same time as she got taken from behind overwhelmed her. Diana clawed at her own throat as if she were drowning all over again and then snapped out of it as the halfling died and the memory ended.

One of the monsters moved and brought his hideous cock closer. It was covered not only in grotesque and branching veins, but everything from hairy warts to dripping boils. It twitched as the Agonizer moved closer to her…

“Get away from me!” Diana whispered harshly, gritting her teeth as she lived through other memories. Elves being choked to death by cocks. Women gangraped by orcs. Children taken as wives by old men and forced to suffer. Enough. Enough. Enough! “GET AWAY FROM ME!” she shrieked, both at the memories and the monsters coming near her.

A ghastly howl emerged from their mouths as their souls were ripped and torn, sent screaming from her realm off to some other afterlife. Diana knew nor cared where as they were relinquished from her realm and cast out… she felt certain it was their fate to suffer whatever afterlife they truly deserved. No one will suffer like that again, she promised. No one…

Diana was going to make things right.

She would stand for justice and protect those that suffered. She was the Goddess of Rape, and she was going to be the one to define what that meant. No more encouragement. No more assistance. No more answered prayers. She would not only stamp out rape, but her realm would be one for those that were deeply hurt by it… a home, a sheltering afterlife.

To begin with, she used her influence to get the torture at the facility she’d died in to stop. Months had passed, but the cult was still there… and some of her order still lived. She found the mortals worshiping her and told them that her will was that they open the cells and flee. As doubtful as they were of betraying their own way of life, they were brainwashed enough that they followed her wishes nonetheless. Some of them were hounded down by vengeful women. Others were hunted down by the guards as they fled. In neither case did “their” goddess lift a finger to help them.

All those women and girls, including the surviving paladins, ended up getting set free. Diana lacked the ability to make her horrific male followers kill themselves outright, but she led them far away, telling people where to find them. Only Oran and a few of the others understood what was happening and fled, giving up the proper worship, hiding where she could no longer see them. I will find you, Diana promised. I will

With her new powers she could change the world for the better in ways she could have never imagined before, even if this meant being in this position. She could improve the world. She could be the heroic paladin again, the life that she’d thought was lost to her forever. Diana thought of all the line of goddesses that had come before her, those she had followed in the wake of, and the story Syris told her. They want us to suffer, do they? She thought of the arrogant gods that had created this mess and had done nothing to clean it up, nothing to save the women trapped in it. They wanted to hide their mistakes. No longer. We will not suffer any longer!

In the years to follow, Diana sought out female followers… women who would listen to her. Women who would trust her. Women who would do as they were told. Many of the paladins who had served her order had had their faiths broken beneath the hands and whips and cocks of the cultists, and to them she offered a new faith, a new goddess to worship.

The first thing she did was to send them after “her” former worshipers, the rapists that had crushed her and the other women. Kill them all, and send them to whatever filthy afterlife they deserved. After that, however, Diana instructed them to build temples that would act as safehouses for women that were abused. To offer to find and rescue abused women and give them shelter, to bring rapists to justice. In this, she was uniquely able to help guide them – after all, Diana could feel each and every rape that happened. She could direct her followers to just where they needed to go to find the victims, and destroy the guilty.

We will be like the holy orders, except I will instruct all my followers where to go, she thought to herself with satisfaction. We will make the world a better place than I ever could have dreamed of before.

Her old life as a paladin gave her experience in this sort of thing that was invaluable in her new position of power. As a goddess, she did not need to fear any mortal’s retribution, and any of her servants that fell were gladly welcomed into the afterlife, where she would shelter them. As she did, the pools of the blood of the dead began to fade. What was once a fetid pool of women’s blood filled with monsters in her divine realm now became a shining city that was crowded with those who believed in her, who had served her – fallen victims being sheltered, fallen warriors who had bravely fought. It did, however, breed a certain fanaticism among those that followed her… a sense of being above the law, of being beyond retribution both mortal and divine. The women of Diana’s faith, encouraged by Diana herself, sought to remake the world in a way that was better for them… and in their zealotry, to punish any who could hurt them.

And they feared no one. They know, Diana thought proudly. They know I’m here for them. That I protect them. No matter how much pain there was to bear, one day it would be over. One day there would only be the memories that Diana would mercifully take from them, removing their pain for eternity. She would need to take them on herself but she would slowly become numb to them… let them fade into the background.

Of course, they didn’t all fade into the background. There would be some brutal act every so often that shook Diana a little. There were indiscriminate acts of violence that she never found a way to punish. Rapes happening in places she did not know anything about, and women being abused at length in such horrifying ways that she sobbed in pain from what was being done to them, weeping for both her followers and for herself.

I’ll kill them all, Diana told herself, thinking of the perpetrators. I’ll kill them all, I’ll kill them all, I’ll kill them all…

In two decades’ time, worship of Diana spread not only among women in need of help and great believers in the cause, but even to higher echelons of society made up entirely by men. The Goddess Diana was now seen almost as synonymous with justice – her temples were often used as courthouses, and judges were common worshipers of her faith. Cities were glad to feature her as one of their deities, knowing she would be there to protect them.

Increasingly, Diana was more worried about the places in the realm populated by lesser races… those that could not be taught how to properly behave. The orcs, goblins, trolls, and their like… they would never see the light. They would never stop abusing their captives, and she felt that suffering… and she needed it to stop. At the same time, they weren’t the only ones. Some of those in positions of power in human and elf and dwarf kingdoms refused to see things in the right way. They refused to do what needed to be done to wipe out the scourge of rape once and for all… so they needed to be expunged.

The crusade started by Diana’s followers was successful at first. Corrupt governments began to crumble one after another as women refused to let themselves be abused any longer. But it wasn’t enough. Her followers were hopelessly naive in her eyes, just as she herself had once been. They didn’t understand what atrocities other people were capable of. Too many of them believed that they could change things peacefully, that those who committed crimes could be rehabilitated, that men who were capable of evil could be taught better.

So Diana helped them, for their own good. She pushed their furor, stirred them into taking the sort of actions that were necessary to fix the world. She brought them justice, not the weak willed kind that had failed her in life, but the kind that burned evil out wherever it could be found. The kind that punished the wicked before they could hurt others, instead of waiting until after the fact.

People outside of her faith began to fear her teachings, just as they should. If all women had to live in constant terror of being raped, and Diana couldn’t imagine how anyone could live any other way, then men should live in constant terror of being punished. She knew that her efforts were bearing fruit when men began to flee from the places she had saved, fearing the righteous anger of her followers. Some of them had never done anything wrong, but what did that matter? The well-being of a few innocents was nothing compared to salvation.

Soon entire villages that were once equally populated by men and women became sanctuaries that only featured women as the men took off, too scared of what crimes might be attributed to them later. Let them run, thought Diana triumphantly. We don’t need them. We never did.

It was only a matter of time until this new ordering in many places of the world faced a reckoning… but it took a form that Diana did not expect. It did not start with male outsiders fighting one another, or against her people – instead, conflict began with the women that followed her killing one another in competition over the few males left in their communities. They competed ferociously, viciously, sometimes brutally punishing each other for the most petty reasons, the smallest gains. Diana did her best to stop it, to make them understand that all their rage and fury should be directed only at their enemies, but no matter how much they bowed and listened to the sermons that preached Diana’s teachings, they continued going on in the same way.

It was during this time of disruption that the first of the Ravagers came.

Groups of men had fled from civilized lands, running away and surviving in whatever way they could. Many of them had found their homes in barbarous lands among orcs, minotaurs, centaurs… other races that knew little of civilization. As society turned on itself they returned with a vengeance, taking every girl they could get their hands on and brutally raping them, destroying any statue or sign of worship of Diana everywhere they found them.

For the first time in years, Diana experienced a spiritual turbulence on the level of what she’d first felt when she was taken captive. These girls were being raped and tortured on a daily basis and intentionally kept alive to suffer as much as possible. She felt madness. When Diana sent her warriors to intervene, to stop the new torments being fed into her mind and soul, sometimes they would succeed… but sometimes they did not. When her warriors failed, the Ravagers would get their hands on them too, further worsening what was already a terrible problem as another strong, durable woman, a woman who could last and suffer for a long, long time, would fall into their hands.

Her people were suffering… but so was Diana. The red-haired goddess could feel her own thoughts slipping away as she struggled to accept the level of suffering sent her way. The Ravagers beat and raped the women, tortured and hated, humiliated and degraded over and over again – dismembering them, crippling them, and whipping them into sobbing submission until they remembered “their place” once again.

The hatred of women held by the Ravagers was far beyond anything Diana had ever heard of or experienced before… they were motivated by lust, true, but also by sheer rage. Beyond those that were motivated to join the Ravagers for the sake of vengeance, men from other parts of the world were joining in too, just to get in on the fun and loot whatever they could, to take advantage of the chaos. As woman after woman fell to their wrath, Diana became nothing but a crippled mess that could barely communicate with her own followers. No, this can’t be… she told herself. This can’t be how it is…

As the Ravagers punished the women and stormed through cities one by one, taking them back, Diana suffered in madness. She had nothing but an endless sea of misery to swim through, and it was coming back in faster than she could even hope to work through it and let it recede. As time passed, she was growing worse at it, too… her mind feeling like it was growing weaker. She was a failure… she had always been a failure. She could admit that. She just wanted someone, anyone, to take her place. Let them try to fix the world… she just wanted not to hurt. I’ve failed, she admitted. I’ve failed!

But failure did not mean that she deserved to suffer like this. Such an agony was not fitting for anyone…

To her great dismay, the victory of the Ravagers over the civilized lands did not spell the end for her reign as the Goddess of Rape. Brutal as they were, they were impatient, raping and killing in a frenzy. Then it was over, and not a single woman had suffered enough to get even closer to her. She hoped they would eventually grow more vicious, but instead the Ravagers slowly lost their mad frenzy and tried to bring things back to normal. The women were so beaten down into submission that they never once questioned anything they said. They understood that their role now was not just that of the weaker sex, but of property, and those among them that understood everything that had taken place cursed Diana instead for letting them down.

I didn’t do anything, Diana thought angrily. You should’ve fought! You should have fought and fought and fought and stayed strong, even as you were raped! You should’ve died fighting! You should have been able to replace me, or at least stop adding to my suffering!

You whores! Diana shrieked at them as they got raped. Stop taking it! Fight back or kill yourselves!

A few of the most devout ones heard her urgings, and did… But those were only a handful. Many of her other followers had already been broken once, and breaking them anew was easy for the Ravagers. Those just accepted their fate and thus condemned not only themselves but Diana to their same suffering.

After a while, all Diana wanted was for it to be over. For it to end.

There must be another, she decided. One to take my place… to succeed where a pathetic wretch like me failed…

The bitter irony, she realized, was that these rapists weren’t actually even any good at it. They were brutal and vicious but unimaginative and simple, and women rarely survived their prolonged attentions long enough to suffer enough. The Agonizers their combined experience, hundreds of lifetimes worth of skill and experience in rape and torture… and she had thrown them all away. She needed to do something else. She needed to create new tormentors.

Diana started with the women that were most broken by the Ravagers. Through them, she attempted to talk to the males and convince them to follow her. To tell them that she was, in fact, the real goddess and not the false one the women had been following… that the Goddess of Rape watched them, and steered their hands… that Diana fully supported what they were doing.

Make them suffer, she told her new male followers. The more devastation they spread, the worse suffering they caused, the more she hurt… but the greater the odds for Diana that she would be released from this hell.

She had wanted to try and make the world a better place. She had wanted to bear all the pain… but it wasn’t possible. She wasn’t strong enough… not when there was so much evil in the world. The fact that the women she’d put so much faith in broke so easily took all her hope away. They deserve this. This is their fault. They deserve their fates.

A new wave of rapes and tortures started in the cities dominated by the Ravagers, and this time they did so for holy reasons. Diana taught them how to best torture the women and how to get the most out of them. As she sat on her godly throne sobbing in agony, she knew that the pain would eventually cease. Each time they broke the limbs of one of the victims or tore out parts of her body was getting her closer to release.

I will go to a calm afterlife after this, she told herself. Someone else can try to fix the world, but for me it will be over.

Diana endured… what else could she do? She cried along with the young girls that were dragged and put into stockades to satisfy the needs of warriors and shrieked with the others that had their fingers broken, teeth removed, and nails torn out until their minds were drowned in so much agony that there was no person inside left to break. Every time one of the abused victims died and it wasn’t enough, that she had endured all their suffering for nothing, Diana howled in frustration, and her voice could be heard through the entirety of her new realm. Those women that followed her and dwelt in her afterlife “paradise” were now terrified of what she had become. When their eyes came upon her, Diana could sense their fear and horror, and she hated that they would think so little of her.

“Have I not given everything up to try to help you all?” she screamed at them. “Have I not sacrificed myself for you, for every one of you?!” But the more she yelled to try and explain herself, the greater their fear, and the greater her resentment.

In the end, Diana began to hate the very same women she had sworn to save.

As some of her male followers from the mortal realm perished and joined her in the afterlife, she offered to allow them to return, to share their experience with those who were still alive. As a reward for agreeing to help her, she had no qualm about allowing them to take what they wanted from those who had willingly placed themselves in her afterlife. With her powers, she turned the men into monsters, rape-demons to serve like the Agonizers Syris had created before her – grotesque monsters of pure muscle with gigantic filthy cocks that would destroy anything they entered. “Take them as you want,” Diana told her monsters, referring to the female warriors of her realm.

Screams began to fill the afterlife.

Diana scoffed as she watched. No wonder none of them were fit to save her. One after another broke, turned into sobbing, useless whores and toilets and cumdumps… broken down in ways that they could never have imagined in life. The full extent of Diana’s powers bore down upon them to turn their afterlives into nothing but pitiless and endless suffering. I gave you a chance, thought Diana. You could have loved me and served me. This is what you chose. You weak whores…

Her mind was battered by the rapes occurring in the mortal world, but Diana’s thoughts turned to the nature of life itself and the world during the hardest moments. How could it be that all these people were so willingly to commit such acts to one another? How was it so easy to direct them to lose all their humanity?  It was clear that the task had Diana set out to do as a paladin decades ago was unachievable. This world will never be a better place. These foul churls don’t deserve it.

Then her followers found Roska.

There were a few things that Diana could truly enjoy about her new place in the world… but this revenge would be one of them. Roska had grown old in the intervening decades since her death, but her Ravagers had finally found her… in the brothel of all places. She wasn’t selling herself, of course, not in her old age. She was the one selling others… selling the bodies of young women that had no other choice to survive but to spread their legs for a few coins. Diana laughed at that irony. She was, after all, the first woman Roska had sold into prostitution, and she had been paid handsomely for it… no doubt she had continued to do the same with the money she had gotten.

The pretty blonde slut had done well for herself. She’d healed her injuries, her scars were gone, and she was married with a family, living in a large estate.  She had used the coins she’d received from her torturers to make a life for herself, found a noble man and charmed her way into his bed… used him to support her trade. She had even gotten her teeth fixed. And as it happened, her children were all daughters…

“Please, let me go!” Roska was pleading as she was dragged out and thrown to the ground. “I’m no use for you, take one of them!” She gestured to the young women that were hiding inside, terrified. They’d heard about the cult of the Goddess of Rape, they knew what would happen to them. They were lucky Diana was far more interested in executing her revenge than in anything else… otherwise she might make them last for months. She felt validated in a sense, knowing that she was right to go after Roska: that the whore was still willing to sell out anyone else to save her skin.

The Ravagers didn’t know if she meant the whore, or her daughters. They also didn’t care. “It’s going to be you tonight,” she was told as one of Diana’s followers spat in Roska’s face.

The first thing they did was knock her teeth out. She didn’t need them after all, especially not after she’d paid for them with the money she’d made selling Diana to the cult. Diana told her Ravagers to show no mercy, and they did not disappoint. Roska was a little old now but her daughters and her whores were all in their prime. They slaughtered the madam’s husband before Roska’s eyes, the husbands and offspring of her daughters next. Then it was time for the main event.

The winged, chained goddess watched eagerly as the treacherous bitch and each of her daughters were properly broken in by the entire horde. They didn’t hold back on her, beating her up half to death before they even got to tearing her clothes and starting raping her. Roska was wailing, screaming for help and even as Diana felt all her pain and humiliation she still needed more. She wanted them to stomp her to the ground, to turn her into a shadow and oh, did her followers listen. Diana could feel the suffering of the family, but this time she endured it with a smirk knowing that someone else suffered more than she at the events. You deserve this. All of this. Even as she kept being abused while she watched, she still couldn’t hold back a smile blooming on her face. Was Diana going mad? Was she so deep into pain and suffering that she’d lost her mind? At this moment she didn’t care… enjoying the feeling of hurting someone who deserved to hurt more than any others. 

By the dawn of the sun at the end of the first day, Roska was broken down into nothing, and her daughters were too. Day after day, Diana was with them as they were gangraped by the laughing warriors and reduced into nothing more than wet rags to be passed along, idle plaything for the hungry Ravagers. After that first day, though, they weren’t good for much. The family could still entertain her faithful for a few days longer, but as with the others they gave in far too quickly… losing their minds entirely, their bodies weakening until they were near the point of death.

Roska was mostly dead too… her old body too frail to be able to endure such abuse for long. Diana was disappointed. She’d suffered for so long and this traitorous bitch got away so easily. It was finally dawning on Diana how powerful she had been… how hard it truly was to endure everything Oran did to her. It was a power she fervently wished that she hadn’t had… but somewhere at the back of her mind she recognized her own strength and felt proud of it. It now posed a problem for her, though. Not just anyone could survive what had been done to her. Roska and her daughters certainly wouldn’t. She was still happy to see her go. The traitor and her whore offspring were impaled while still alive to send a message to others, the wooden poles driven up through their asses past the vital organs till they came out of their mouths. It was a fitting end for Roska and her line. Never betray me again, whore. None of you will. Unfortunately, her soul was not brought into Diana’s realm when she died for further suffering, which was disappointing.

It had become apparent to Diana that both she and her new followers lacked the kind of imagination necessary to bring the right results. They were brutes that could rape and destroy, but they did not know what to do, how to do it, and when to stop. They lacked the necessary intelligence and creativity to do the work that was needed. What Diana needed was closer to an artist than a warrior. Diana remembered those that harmed her in life, too… those that the useless whores that served her before had failed to find. Now, with the Ravagers serving her, she sent them in search of the survivors of Syris’ old cult. I need Oran, she thought, trembling as she remembered the ways he’d hurt her. The Goddess wasn’t sure where her old torturer could be or if the elf was even still alive at this point, but she used all methods available to search for him.

In total, it took three years until she finally found him.

Oran was working for the king of a border kingdom, just one of the torturers in his dungeon. He rarely worked with women these days, but with the hardest of men instead… but even so his reputation preceded him. He was trying to hide… but he eventually drew too much attention… and her Ravagers stepped into the kingdom, finding him and dragging him into a small chamber where Diana could make contact with her former tormentor.

The room was tiny and bare. It held nothing but a straw mattress and a small table. Not even any chairs. On the table there was some bread and only water… but despite his imprisonment the elf seemed amused as he stepped up to the bowl of water and stared down into it… and grinned. “Hello Goddess. I must say, I have been waiting for this moment.”

A storm of emotion poured through the goddess. “Have you?” she said, trying to keep from snarling. Though she needed his help, Diana could not deny her hatred of this man. After all the things he did to her, even knowing the power she now held, he still smiled as if he were the superior being. “You are at my mercy, now.”

“That is true,” Oran admitted. “Proudly so.”

“You hurt me. Broke me…” Tears came to Diana just as she thought about it. It was not the pain anymore but the humiliation. She had been as innocent as a puppy. And he’d pissed that innocence away – literally.

“And I made you a goddess because of it,” he said, still sounding amused.

“I DO NOT WISH TO BE A GODDESS,” Diana snapped furiously. For the first time, the difference in power between them dawned on him, and her rage penetrated deep enough to be felt even by the torturer. There was a keen awareness on his face that this was not the same woman he once tortured, but another being entirely. “You will serve me, or you will die in agony!” Diana ordered. “I want you to do to another what you did to me… Do you understand? I want you to find me a strong soul that can take the very worst, and I want you to make her worthy of me. Fail and I spread your entrails across the country in very thin layers… do you understand me!?”

“I do,” said Oran, shaking his head politely. “I shall do it, Goddess.”

“Good,” said Diana. As her Ravagers attacked a fresh town and captured the women, their pain was being transferred to her and made it hard to do anything else. It made it hard to even think. “Then make haste!”

In the months and years to follow, Oran searched around for what were the most likely candidates… finding the strongest women he could and arranging for them to be brought to him. The demonic spirits she had created were weak compared to the Agonizers he had known, but they were still good enough to begin with, and the elf knew how to bind them to living flesh. Soon the greatest of her Ravagers had their own demonic souls inside them as they heard her whispers directly through them. Oran led them well, finding worthy women. A half-orcish warrior that Diana thought was a stunning beauty, an elf princess and several famous members of her kingdom, a high priestess, and various other strong women joined his stable.

And then he began breaking them at once, in the same way as he’d done with Diana. What she had suffered then was nothing compared to what she suffered now as Oran spent the whole day raping and torturing all ten of them, putting them all through their paces. The combined torments for the ten women were overwhelming as the men took turns between them. Oran barely had time to sleep as he supervised and lead the tortures of all ten, but his dedication to her cause was clear.

Every second that he wasn’t busy planning torments, he spent educating her Ravagers on the best ways to break women down, and Diana could feel the effects of those teachings constantly. Several times she found herself strapped down and whipped, branded, and choked until death…

Except for Diana, there was no death and no release. There was only the suffering.

Break them faster! she demanded of Oran.

The ways Oran tormented the women could be so agonizing at times that Diana needed to force him to stop. He pushed nails into them, broke their bones, drowned them in his piss, and let them be gangraped for days on end, sometimes by similarly broken friends and family members. Both mentally and physically, the agony he brought upon them was indescribable. Surely one of these will be able to take my place, Diana thought hopefully. One of the elven captives in particular had been reduced from a noble sorceress to a pissrag impregnated by goblins. They kept fucking her mouth even as Oran ripped the goblin fetuses out of her. As the pain and humiliation accelerated to unprecedented heights, Diana enjoyed her final moments with glee.

It’s over, she told herself, certain the elf would take her place. At long last, it is over.

Yet at the moment of death, no soul was transported to her realm. No replacement came.

And the torment continued.

Diana rose from her throne and took a few unsteady steps before she collapsed in shock. How is this possible? Where is she? “WHERE IS SHE?!” she shrieked, her voice reaching all the souls in her realm that were being raped.

Impatient, horrified, she demanded that Oran end the lives of the others at once, in the most painful ways he could think of. Most of them had been brought so low by now that it was impossible that none of them had suffered more than she, than none of them would be a fit. The brave half-orc warrior had been thoroughly destroyed. She was nothing but a sobbing mess now that crawled on all fours, trained to act like a dog and not even speak. Her eyes had been torn out as well as her tongue, and Oran often pissed into the empty sockets as her shortened tongue struggled to satisfy his balls.

This is it, thought Diana. This is my successor.

Oran ended her life by fucking both the eyesockets until her brain was turned to a cumsoaked ruin. 

When nothing came to her realm, Diana could feel the last bits of her sanity slipping away. No, no, no, no, no, no… This could not be happening to her. This was the way. She’d been told as much. It was inconceivable that none of them would have made their way.

This was betrayal.

Immediately she suspected Oran. The elf had betrayed her. Through her Ravagers, she demanded he be torn apart. She watched and relished every moment as they ripped apart his eyes, his mouth, his lips, his ears, and especially his cock. “You lied to me!” Diana thundered, knowing this was his fault. Somehow, he’d toyed with her. Deceived her. No longer. “YOU LIED TO ME!”

Unlike the others, Oran did make his way into her realm upon death. She thought that he would sob and beg for mercy, but instead he laughed at her. “You are such a fool, oh mad goddess…”

“You betrayed me! Do you know what I’ll do to you? What you are going to experience in this afterlife?”

Naked, stripped, vulnerable, Oran rose and came towards her, his feet slapping over the smooth marble floor. Naked as he was, he looked like nothing more than an unimpressive man in his early middle age… his dark hair had long since been shaved, and his hairless head let his sharp ears hang out as his thick cock jutted out from his body. He was just a mortal… But the look in his evil eyes still unnerved Diana and returned her to those moments when he had complete control over her.

“I think I know why none of them ended up here,” he said.

Diana trembled. “Why?”

“Those women were broken, yes. Their dignity destroyed and their selves reduced to nothing more than objects to be used and abused. But they were still not broken enough. They never betrayed who they were deep down. Do you understand? They stayed loyal to their values until the end, and their souls were likely taken by the deities they prayed to.”

Diana thought back on her own memories… “You made me pray to you… Forced me to accept Syris…”

Oran laughed. “I never forced you to do any of those things, oh Mad One. I raped you, yes… tortured you, yes… But you could’ve always refused.  You could have died the good Aasimar paladin you were in your younger days. You could have held onto who you were… But that’s not what happened, was it? You sold your soul for nothing. You understood that you were just a meatpuppet without a soul worth a damn. A fucktoy with a pretty face and a half decent pair of tits. That’s all you’ve ever been!”

“Enough,” commanded Diana… but her voice was only a whisper.

The elf slapped her across the face so hard that she came tumbling out of her throne, falling hard to the stone floor. Then he grabbed her by the hair and made her look up at him as he gently stroked her face and played with her crimson forelocks. “Look at you,” he said with a grin. “Still as pretty as you were back then. Are you still as tight?”

I’m a goddess, Diana thought. She should have had the power to make him disappear. Just to wish him away. But all that power could do nothing to sway her mind about the fact that this man was the closest thing to a god she ever experienced. One that had reshaped her and made her into what she was. Scared, Diana began to cry again. “Please…” she mewled. “I want this all to end.”

“It won’t ever end,” said Oran, and laughed. “Or at least not for a long, long time. And thank Diana for that, eh? You’re a better goddess than all the others that came before you. I never would’ve dreamed you would fuck up the world so completely.” His laugh was sharp, mocking, cruel as he continued. “This world has no justice, slut… no peace, no comfort. It won’t ever get any better because it isn’t worth it, because no one cares enough to make it that way… not the men, and not the gods either. Selfish, vain greed, and lust is all that matters now…” His hand gripped her chin hard. “Soon enough, your Ravagers are going to make the whole world pray to you. Generations of men are going to be born as rapists and monsters, fit to spread pain and suffering throughout the world because of you. Generations of women are going to be born just to suffer as worthless fucktoys… because of you. And you’re going to live through all of it… experience all of it. You should be proud!”

“No…” said Diana, sobbing. Shaking, she put her hands up to her face. This could not be happening. There needed to be death. Release. There needed to be justice at least on some level! “Please, Oran, I can’t do it anymore… I can’t…”

He casually rubbed his dick against her face and the mere feeling of it seemed to break her again… not because it simply returned her to where she was when he dominated her, but because the fact that after everything she was about to be raped again proved his point. The world couldn’t get any better. Her efforts were worthless. The only thing she could do to protect herself was to make other people suffer, more and more and more and more and more and hope desperately it would be enough. Diana whimpered helplessly. “No! Please…”

Oran forced the cock into her divine mouth, making her plea end with a pathetic gagging noise. “Shut the fuck up, bitch. Shut up and suck. It’s all you’ve ever been good at.”

Not knowing what else to do, Diana wrapped her lips around the shaft as she was ordered and pleasured this mortal man that towered over her like an actually worthy god. She could feel the gazes on her… the intensity as the other predators in her realm seemed to realize that there had been a shift in power. She could see them approaching her from all over, coming to witness the humiliation of their goddess.

Don’t look, thought Diana, seeing her image getting wiped away in the minds of her male followers, in the minds of the demons of torment and rape that she had created. Don’t look at me…

Oran fucked her throat until he came, then emptied his balls over her face. Then he simply moved away off to become one of the Agonizers that were soon to be the rulers of her realm, leaving her splayed on her knees like discarded trash, trash no longer worthy of his attention. Diana sobbed and hugged herself but now the monsters she created came in, wanting to get the same. “No,” she begged. “Please…”

But her weak voice impressed none of them. They stripped away her fine white clothing and left her body bare, then descended upon her with the same wild might as they did upon the other females in the realm, beating her against the head till she opened wide for their cocks and tearing her ass and pussy open till they could satisfy the gnarled shafts… and from below, from the cracks in the marble and the walls of the palace blood began to leak… filling her realm with the evidence of the slaughter she had been a victim of… that she had been the cause of.

The pain was unbearable. Too much for her to even speak. No… Her sanity slipped entirely, thinking this had to be a nightmare. Just the longest nightmare anyone had experienced that she needed to wake out of. But there was no waking up as the monsters fucked her. As the agony of her own body reached a crescendo, she was flooded by lived experiences from the other side, at the same time being branded, torn apart from the inside, simultaneously made to suffer in thousands of places at once…

Diana, the Goddess of Rape.

Her name was known and worshiped in thousands of cities now, though Diana no longer communicated to any of her followers in any complex way. The ways that the people were taught to follow came mainly from her priests, all of whom specialized in the same methods of mental and physical torture as practiced by Oran, and in whispers to the bound Agonizers.

It had been a century now since her final fall, but Diana hardly felt it. There was no real passage of time, because she never escaped her agony, and there was no escape from it. The more of her followers died and came into the afterlife, the worse things she would have to suffer at their hands, as if the subsequent generations were getting worse than the ones that preceded them.

Though she should’ve felt powerful, she did not. The men commanded her and she did as they said. And the women that suffered in her halls were still better than her, because at least they suffered unwillingly. Diana was simply too pathetic to resist… she knew her place too well. Diana knew she was a goddess and stood all-powerful, and yet she was made to suffer anyway. The part of her that should have fought for her own dignity and survival was broken and gone. Perhaps it was never there to begin with. And that made her far lower than everyone else. Because Diana understood that deep inside her core, she was made to want this, or at least accept it and made to know she deserved it.

As the monster cocks ripped through her and the entirety of her realm wept in agony, as the suffering from the mortal world came alive inside of her, Diana knew it was her corrupted soul that had led to all of it. All that was left afterwards were the tears. Her hopeless tears as she recognized her fate. The tears that would keep flowing forever, just as the pain of the raped world she created flowed into her.

And yet, Diana still sent her followers one message. One word that played in the heads of every priest and Agonizer-bound cultist each and every time they closed their eyes… one command to make known the will of the goddess. More… she whispered when everything was too much. A plea for them to hurt their victims worse. A plea to take things further. A plea to shatter them to splinters, once and forever. More… please, more…

5 thoughts on “Sum of Her Scars – Chapter 4-B

  1. Someone’s going to hate me for this, but I’m not entirely sure this is as good and right an ending as everyone agreed it was. I’d thought I’d spend all my time trying to figure out what was wrong with the good ending, and instead I tilted my head and thought something was…off here.

    I don’t know for sure what it is, though. I can say that it’s not that the chapter as an individual piece doesn’t work, but rather I feel that there’s something off about its continuity with the rest of the story. Expect a second review tonight, after I get back from work. I’m going to try and figure this out.


  2. Turns out I can’t really do a detailed review for this.

    I tried discussing the ending and analyze and stuff, and the review kept getting more and more not something you’d want, so I’m just going to say I really wish this wasn’t the canon ending. I really wish this wasn’t the real ending of Diana’s story.

    I’ll try and be better about analysis in the good ending. I’m just having a really bad time right now.


  3. You know, as much as I like the “good” ending and think that Diana deserves all the kindness in the world and more for what she’s been through…I can’t help but say that I like this version better. It just feels more right. On some primal level.

    Sorry Diana. But your sacrifice is immensely appreciated.


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